Running Scared
by lavalata
Summary: A Winchester brothers story. DeanOC and SamOC. there is a contract out on Sammy boy's life and its up to Dean and some old friends to save him. what could possibly go wrong?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Of Winchester's and Owens'

Dean and Sam Winchester limped slowly up the steps to their hotel room, leaning on each other for support. Rain pored down over their heads, soaking their clothing and seeping into their boots. Dean groaned, and Sam stopped for a minuet letting Dean rest for a few seconds before they continued up the flight of steps.

When they got to the top of the stairs Dean carefully transferred his weight to the railing, and Sam pulled out the Motel 6 room key and slotted it into the key hole. He held the door open with his damp hiking boot, while he helped Dean into the room. Sam leaned his brother against the wall so he could close and lock up. Dean let out a breath.

"You ok man?" Sam asked letting the door slip closed.

"Depends." Dean answered.

"On?" Sam asked his back still to the rest of the room.

"Put your hands up Sammy and turn around slowly." It was a girl's voice, Sam raised his hands palms out ward to show he wasn't armed and turned around.

There standing by Dean's bed was a woman, tall with dark brown hair, and a gun pointing straight at Dean.

"Hello, Angie." Dean said.

"Hello Dean." The girl said, smiling at Dean but keeping her gun on him.

"Hey now Angie, I know we didn't part ways the best of friends but a gun? Come on you can't hate me that bad." The girl laughed lightly and flashed them another toothy smile.

"Oh Dean, you above all people should know that you can't trust anyone these days. There's Holy water on the table." She said gesturing with the end of her gun to the table by the door, on it where two glasses of clear liquid. "Drink it."

"It's just Holy water?" Dean asked.

"Yep. If you are who you say you are it shouldn't hurt you at all." Dean picked up one of the glasses and downed it in one gulp, before handing Sam the other.

"Drink up Sammy." Dean said. Sam did as he was told; the gun being a pretty big motivator. Especially because he doubted this one was loaded with rock salt.

"Hey'ya Angie." Dean said as the girl lowered her gun and crossed the room. She and Dean embraced. Dean winced slightly at her hug.

"Sorry, the spirit of Lucy Dane give you a pounding?" The girl asked, holding Dean away from her to look at him.

"Something like that. How' d you know about her?" Dean asked limping to the bed and sitting down with a sigh.

"How did you think I found you? Just look for the closest and most resent haunting and you're sure to find Dean Winchester." She sat down next to Dean and handed him a towel.

"How's life?" She asked. "I heard your dad died. I'm sorry I wasn't there." She clicked on the safety of the gun and stuck it in a holster on her lower back.

"Its ok. We were kinda lying low anyways. Not sure you would have been able to find us." Dean began to dry his hair, while trying not to jar his shoulder.

"You want some thing for that?" Angie asked. "I've got some vicodin in hear somewhere." She buried her head in a medium sized duffle back that was resting on the floor at her feet.

"Um, look not to brake up the reunion or any thing but who are you?" Sam asked, having grown tiered of being ignored.

"Sorry Sam. Sam this is Angela Owens, Angie this is my brother Sammy." Dean said pulling the towel off his head and leaving his hair sticking up in all directions.

"I've heard of you." Angie said standing up and crossing the room to another bag that didn't belong to the Winchester's. She yanked a piece of computer paper out and handed it to Dean. His eye's widened in surprise and he looked up at Angie.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, holding up the paper.

"It was given to me by Ellen. She said some hunter hung it in the bar. That I should find you first and warn you."

"How long ago?" Dean asked lurching to his feet, and throwing the towel into his bag.

"About two days ago. We came straight here." Angie said.

"Time to go Sammy." He said tossing Sam one of his sweat shirts.

"What? Why? Dean what's going on?" Sam asked, not understanding what had set his brother off.

"Because of this." Dean said crumpling the paper and pitching it at Sam who caught it. He uncrumpled it and stared in disbelief at what was there.

In big black letters made by a sharpie was the word "Bounty." And under it was a picture of him. Then in smaller black letters where the words, "10,000 Dollars for the head of Samuel John Winchester the Anti-Christ. For REWARD contact Robert Raider via email. Sam said, dropping the paper and stuffing the sweatshirt into his own bag.

"Dean, chill." Angie said. "We've got time."

"What?" Dean said mid way through jamming his spare pair of motorcycle boots into his duffle.

"You think I came all the way out here just to have you have to start running again? Come on give me more credit then that. Ellen and Bobby are leaving a false trail, and I made some calls. Every one who might be after you is half way to New Orleans right about now. And if some one did follow us Mac and Mikey are waiting out side to ambush 'em." Angie said, propping her feet up on one of standard issue hotel chairs. "So we have time for you to tell me all about why Sammy here is attracting so much unwanted attention."

"Shit Angie, you know those religious fanatic hunters don't need any thing to jump straight to the wrong conclusion." Dean said. At Angie's mention of the others standing guard he had calmed down.   
"They may jump to conclusions but something generally makes them start jumping. What did you two do? Or more specifically what did Sammy here do?"

"It's a long story Angie." Dean said sitting back down on the bed.

"Well we've got time. Spill Winchester." Angie shifted around on the bed making her self comfortable.

"Ok, short version. You know how our mother died right?" Angie nodded, but didn't speak. "Well we found out that the demon Azazel was the one who did it. He wanted to create a sort of hybrid demon or something to open this massive Devils Gate created by Alexander Colt. Anyways Azazel kidnapped Sam and a bunch of others he had got to, and set 'em all against each other. And then…" Dean faltered, Sam could see his brother trying to decide how much to tell Angie. "Well anyways, he got away and Bobby, Ellen, Sam and I went back to try and stop the gate from opening. But we didn't get there in time. So the gate opened, we closed it but a bunch of them still think it was Sam who did it." Dean ended.

"That's not all that happened is it Dean?" Angie said.

"No. But…"

"S'ok, you don't have to tell me now. Just promise me you aren't holding some thing back that could get us all killed." She said.

"Promise." Dean said.

"Ok, well then, is it ok if we all kip in here for the night?" She asked. "No use paying for another room if we don't have to. The kids and I'll sleep on the floor."

"Kids?" Sam asked. Somehow he couldn't see Angie as a teenage mother. She seemed to practical for that.

"Yeah, my kid brother and sister. Hang on and I'll call them up." She pulled out a cell phone and hit a speed number. "Hey…yeah…come on up." She hung up and shot Sam and Dean a smile. "They'll be up in a minuet. Hope yall are hungry Mac got us all burgers from the dinner down the way."

"Great I'm starving." Dean said. "How are twin one and twin two anyways?"

"Good. Mikey's half way through a bachelors in History, and Mac's gotten scary good with that blade you got her." Angie said.

"Yeah?"

There was a knock at the door, a quick one two one two pattern.

"That's them." Angie stood and walked to the door.

"A secret knock?" Dean asked, smirking through his bloody lip.

"Yeah, I figure no self respecting demon would stoop to giving a secret knock." Angie said over her shoulder as she opened the door to reveal two figures wearing black rain coats. They stepped in shedding the soaked outer layer as they came.

If asked, Sam knew that Dean would describe what Angie's siblings were wearing as hunter sheik. Both of them wore blue jeans, and hiking boots, their t-shirts had mullet rock logos one AC/DC and the other a Foreigner design. As far as looks went they shared Angie's coloring but that was about it. The girl was tall but not as tall as her older sister. Sam would guess 5'8" or 5'9", she had long cork screw hair that had been pulled back into a messy pony tail. The boy was taller then Angie, actually he was almost as tall as Sam. He definitely had a few inches on Dean. His hair was longer than Dean's but shorter than Sam's. He was built wiry, and had a scar that went through his left eyebrow, separating it into two parts.

"Hi 'ya squirts." Dean said, smiling at the two rain sopped hunters.

"Dean." The girl said dumping her load of grease stained paper bags and hugging Dean. The boy wasn't far behind, and even though Dean winced Sam could tell that he was happy. Really happy.

"Sam, this is Mackenzie," Dean said nodding to the girl.

"Mac." She said.

"And this is Mikey." Dean ruffled the boy's curly mop fondly before plopping back down on the bed.

"Hi." Sam said smiling at the 'kids' though really they both had to be at least nineteen.

"I hope you are all hungry 'cause we got tons of food." Mac said digging into one of the grease stained paper bags.

"Yeah if memory serves Dean is kind of a bottomless pit, so we figured you might be to." Mikey said handing Dean one of the bags.

"Less of a bottomless pit and more of an empty leg actually." Sam said smiling at Mikey's characterization of Deans eating habits.

"Like you can talk." Angie said punching Mikey lightly on his shoulder. "This one here is slowly eating me out of house and home." She snagged a burger and fries from Dean's bag and took a huge bite.

"Like you can talk. You don't have a house." Dean said through a mouthful of french-fries.

"Ha-ha." Angie said, shooting Dean a smile. "So, I was thinking that we should head out in the morning. Get really far away from here, because when certain hunters get to New Orleans they are going to be seriously pissed off at me."

"Where do you thing we should go?" Dean asked.

7


	2. Chapter 2

Running Scared Chapter 2

Running Scared Chapter 2

A Different Kind of Family

There are all kinds of families; Dean thought to himself as he edged his foot down on the accelerator of the Impala. He had forgotten how fast Angie liked to drive. He had forgotten a lot of things in the past three years. Just three years. It seemed like so much longer than that. He had forgotten how much he liked traveling with the Owens'. How it felt to have people all around you who cared. Who would die for you if you needed them too. It was nice.

He and Sam were following the 66' two door Mustang coup down a small back road and the smaller car was taking the turns at a speed that had Sam gripping the seat as Dean tried to keep up.

He had been woken that morning to the smell of bacon sandwiches and a trio of smiling Owens'. He had also forgotten that Angie was a morning person.

"Come on you, day's a'waisting. We gotta be gone by noon." Angie said tossing Dean a Sandwich and plopping down on his bed. Her hair was wet and pulled back into a long braid, and her face was alight with morning exuberance. Stupid mornings. Dean thought, scowling at the paper wrapped sandwich on his chest.

He was about to tell Angie where she could stick that sandwich and mornings in general when she drew her hand out of her pocket with great aplomb. She waved her hand in front of his face and then revealed the contents.

"Herbs?" Dean muttered.

"Yup, really powerful pain med's don't hold a candle to this shit." Angie waved the small bottle of green goo in front of his face. "All of the pain gone with none of the drowsiness. And if you get up and eat breakfast like a good boy you can have it."

Dean let his head drop back onto the pillow, on one hand sleep was sounding really good but his back was aching and he did have to get going if they wanted to stay one step ahead of Robert Raider and the other psychopathic hunters. Dean heaved him self up and held out his hand.

"Med's please." He said and Angie handed them over. No sooner had he popped open the vial and tilted it up shot glass style when the taste hit leaving him sputtering.

"Oh, it tastes bad." Mac flipped at him earning her the early morning Dean scowl.

"You could have warned me." Dean groused as he climbed out of bed and turned the radio on full blast. Sammy startled into wakefulness in the other bed pulling a gun out from under his pillow. Only to look around angrily at Dean.

"Not funny." Sam muttered tossing the gun aside.

"Mean," Angie agreed patting Sam on the shoulder to calm him down. "You wouldn't have taken them if I said something. And don't you feel better now?" She gave Sam a bag of food and then disappeared into the bathroom before Dean could answer.

Twenty minuets later they were packing up the Impala and Angie's Mustang. They were headed toward Medicine Bow Ridge, were it was rumored that a big black dog was roaming the hills. At least that's what the web blog Mikey had found said. The working theory being that it was a Black Dog roaming the plains as opposed to the English Moors.

"Ok, all done." Mikey said tossing the last bag into the Impala and slamming closed the trunk in a way that would have had Dean yelling if it was anyone else.

"Dean, you pay for the room with a credit card?" Angie asked closing the Mustang's trunk.

"Yeah." He said.

"Hand it over." She took the card from Dean and gave it to a homeless man who was standing on the street corner next to the Motel 6 sign. "As far as Robert Raider is concerned Paul Brown and his brother never left Paris, Illinois. Let's move." She slid into the driver's seat and Mac did the same on the passenger side. The doors closed in unison.

"I'm riding with you." Mikey said plopping himself down on the back seat of the Impala, his boot clad feet propped up in the space between the driver and passenger sides.

"Hey Dean!" Angie said sticking her head out the window. "Try and keep up hu?" She revved the engine and shot out of the parking lot.

"Let's get gone Sammy." Dean said, and they had soon followed suit.

Twenty minuets later Sam had been over ruled by Dean and Mikey and AC/DC was blaring through the Impala's stereo system and Mikey was miraculously asleep stretched out in the back seat.

Sam reached over and turned down the mullet rock.

"Hey." Dean said in protest, but Sam stopped him from turning it up again.

"I need some answers first." He said. Dean sighed but nodded his head in assent. "Who are they? And where do you know them from? Can we trust them?" Sam fired off the questions in quick succession.

Dean sighed again but answered. "Angie's dad was in the core with Dad. They didn't know they were both hunters until they showed up at the same job. That was probably when I was eight? Nine, maybe."

"Why didn't I ever meet them?" Sam asked sounding a little hurt.

"Shit, Sammy I didn't meet them until the year you went away to college. Luke Owens, their Dad died and we- me and Dad- went to the funeral. There was a job and Dad left early. Angie and I got to talking and I don't know, like two hours later we were all tracking down a couple of ghosts. Therapy through violence or something. I guess we just stuck with each other after that. Then I meet Cassie, and Angie and I fought and well that was that. Three months later Dad disappeared and I came and got you. They live off the grid like us so it's not like you can just look them up." Dean finished up.

"Hey we learned from the best." Mikey said from the backseat, having woken up some time during the conversation. "And you didn't exactly try and contact us. You could have you know?" Mikey sat up and propped his chin on his arms leaning on the front seat.

Dean looked sad for a moment, and then it passed as Mikey turned up the music again and he and Dean broke into the chorus of _Highway to Hell_. Sam groaned though it wasn't audible over AC/DC. Next time he was ridding with Angie.

That night found them staying in another crappy motel. But the beds were clean and the water pressure was decent so Sam wasn't complaining. They got one room again the Owens once again claiming the floor with their sleeping bags despite protests from Sam and Dean. Things seemed normal enough until after dinner.

They had just finished cleaning up the mess of taco wrappers, when a pair of padded kickboxing gloves landed in Dean's lap. He looked up in surprise. Angie was standing over him strapping on a pair of similar gloves.

"Come on Dean, don't tell me you're gettin' soft. There's a clearing out back. Let's go." Angie preformed a quick one two punch combo in the air and then turned leading the way out side, Dean following in her wake a slightly malicious grin plastered on his face.

Sam felt a hand grab his arm; he turned looking at Mac who was pulling him outside.

"Trust me," she said smiling at him. "You don't want to miss this."

Out in the clearing Angie and Dean were stretching as they talked.

"Rules?" Dean asked, loosening his triceps then swinging his arms.

"Come on, where's your sense of adventure? No biting, no actual kill shots." Angie preformed a walk-over then snapped up into a classic defensive boxing stance. Her fists held close to her chest and face, balancing on the balls of her feet.

Dean affected a similar stance, and they circled each other.

"I'll go easy on you 'cause you got thrashed the other night." Angie said, feinting to the left then back to the circling.

"Sweetheart, don't hold back on my account. Give me all you got." Dean taunted, doing the Matrix hand move. And then they were only a blur of motion. This wasn't boxing, or the marine corp. defensive maneuvers Dad had taught them. It was a no holds bared mixed martial arts slug fest. They would dive in jab, punch, kick, and then spin out. Get pinned then break free only to go back at it again.

Now Sam understood why they were wearing gloves. When Dean and Sam spared Dean always scoffed at the notion of protection. The argument being that when you were fighting something there wasn't time to go grab your gloves. But if Angie and Dean didn't have padding on their fists Sam was pretty sure there would be blood flying every where.

Dean was getting tiered. Angie had rammed him in the knee but good, and it was throbbing like a bitch. Truth be told he hadn't been in a fight like this since he and Angie went their separate ways. And the herb pain killers from the morning were finally starting to wear off.

Then he saw his opening, when Angie lunged in to deliver a quick punch, elbow that left her side open. Dean jammed his knee into her solo plexus then sent her flying with a roundhouse kick. Angie smashed into a nearby tree sliding to the ground, and Dean lunged ready to deliver the 'stun' blow which would signal the end of the match. But just as he was about to finish it, Angie's leg snapped up locking around his neck and flipping him over so she was straddling his shoulders. She brought her fists down and tapped him once with each glove.

"You win." Dean said, as Angie rolled off of him. They lay there for a moment side by side panting from the exertion.

"How's your side?" Dean asked.

"Better then your knee." Angie said, with a laugh rolling over and punching Dean playfully on the shoulder. Dean hulled himself up then reached down offering Angie his hand she took it and he pulled her to her feet.

"I'm glad you're back." Angie said, bumping their hip's together as they walked over toward a stunned Sam, Mikey, and Mac.

"Me to Angie, me to."


End file.
